The First Night Demask'd
by Genevievey
Summary: Twelfth Night . A series of vignettes continuing from where the curtain falls. Pure fluff. Orsino/Viola
1. The First Night Demask'd

_Author's Note:_ _I hope you enjoy this fluff about the first time Orsino gets to see Viola in her "woman's weeds".  
And of course, all characters belong to the great Bard._

_I love reviews! (hint, hint...)_

**The First Night Demask'd**

The ladies' chamber was a flurry of satin and lace, with a hint of delicious perfumes lingering in the air. The glass reflected soft light and warm smiles, although one young woman could not sit still.

"Are you quite sure it is not too much?" Viola persisted, examining her reflection with nervous concern. "Dear sister," Olivia replied, repressing a smile of amusement at her friend's flustered state, "I have dressed you in the finest taste, and indeed I have not seen a maid look fairer". The countess, too, had finally cast off her black garments, now attired in silk that only added to her natural loveliness. Olivia was quietly amused by Viola's obvious and unnecessary trepidation; she had already won her master's affection as Cesario, and dressed as she now was she would win his admiration also.

Olivia's words did only partly quell the fear that gripped Viola's stomach, and she looked herself up and down, trying to see the beauty her friend described. Certainly her cropped hair had been lent a feminine touch by the work of a curling iron. Olivia had advised her against rouge, saying that her cheeks would flush of their own accord under the looks the Duke was bound to give her. Smoothing her hands down the bodice of her satin frock, Viola was surprised to notice that she did indeed have a woman's figure. It was strange to be a woman again, and she had to focus intently to remember how to walk as a woman should.

A clock chimed throughout the house, and Viola felt her stomach clench. Olivia smiled reassuringly, and with a hint of anticipation. "Our lords await us…"

Orsino paced at the foot of the staircase. One short hour ago he had thought his Cesario a boy, and thought himself in love with Lady Olivia. Now, to find his affections in truth belonging to Cesario, who was Viola, a maiden!  
_Viola…a fair name, and musical to the ear. Viola…_  
He could scarce contain himself, so eager was he to see his new love as she truly was; in her 'woman's weeds'. He had thought her fair as a boy; how much more so must she be in maiden's garments to accentuate her femininity. He heard a creak on the stairs, and raised his eyes slowly.

A beautiful stranger stood atop his staircase. Folds of green satin fell to her feet, clinging at the bodice to entirely feminine curves. Golden curls in clusters framed her lovely face; pale, and set with eyes that glittered like sapphire. Her complexion was fair from her forehead to the graceful neck that disappeared enticingly beneath satin, except for the budding roses which glowed in her cheeks. This fair creature was his Viola. It took Orsino a moment to realize that her expression was of uncertainty, then—not trusting his voice—he gestured her to approach, offering a smile of approval.

Heart thudding, Viola concentrated on each step. She had dreamed of moments such as these, but now wondered if she was truly strong enough for them, when his mere presence reduced her to this state. Only at the foot of the stairs did she raise her eyes to meet his, and immediately the blush deepened in her cheeks (as Olivia had predicted). Viola felt naked and vulnerable with her femininity and her affections laid so bare. To her surprise and relief, Orsino's eyes shone with admiration and affection, so much so that she was momentarily spellbound as he took her hand and raised it to his lips. _Oh, his lips are warm.  
_  
Realizing she must look a dolt, Viola managed to find her voice. "Dost my lord approve?"  
"Most fervently," came the soft, deep reply.  
Together they stood, marvelling at the wondrous miracle that brought them so, until Viola thought her heart might burst, and finally lowered her gaze.  
"Come my dear, the others await us," began Orsino, smiling to himself at the obvious admiration her demure manners could not conceal. Revelling in his term of endearment, Viola let herself be lead by the hand to the terrace, where Olivia and Sebastian waited, in close embrace, before a sumptuous feast.

All were seated, and several happy hours were spent in feasting and laughing and the drinking of healths. After supper, the parties separated, the wedded couple departing for a stroll. Viola smiled after her brother and her friend. "They are well matched".  
"Indeed," Orsino replied, giving her a hand to rise, and leaning against the balcony. They stood together, admiring the sunset on the ocean. Viola shivered a little at the coming night chill, and he wrapped an arm about her, raising her temperature instantly. But she could not suppress a yawn.  
"You have had a long day, my lady," the count noted, a laugh in his voice as he called 'his lady' whom he had only called 'boy' before. Viola saw the humour too, but her smile was more for being his lady.

"Forgive me," Orsino suddenly leapt into motion, withdrawing from their embrace (to her great disappointment), "I am keeping you from retiring." Sensing her reluctance to leave, he grinned in fond amusement. "May I walk my lady to her chamber?"  
"You may," Viola replied, her heart thudding. All night she had been anticipating a moment alone, that he might take a kiss, and surely it had come at last.

Outside her door, they turned to face each other. "Good night, my lord," she curtseyed with a coy little smile, and he chuckled; she had only ever bowed to him before. "Good night, Viola," he replied, raising her hand to his lips once more, and never breaking their gaze all the while. It was as if a tangible thread pulled them closer together, and Viola no longer tried to hide the longing in her eyes. Slowly, Orsino stepped forward and lowered his lips to hers.

Viola had dreamed this moment a thousand times, but now it was real. The warmth of his mouth, the ticklish scratch of his beard, and the masculine scent that hung about him. They parted a few inches, and her eyelids fluttered open to find him gazing at her with adoration. He ran a thumb across her cheek to the corner of her mouth, and then his lips were upon hers once more. Viola's head spun, and she could feel her pulse racing. _How heavenly…oh!_ He drew her closer, up against his firm warmth, and throwing caution to the winds Viola slid her hands up his torso to wrap around his neck and toy with his hair. Orsino growled softly into the kiss in response; his own hands at her waist, the other in her hair. He revelled in the soft noises of surprise and approval she emitted at each caress.

It was only for need of breath that they drew apart; each breathing unevenly and staring at the other in dazed wonderment. A shy smile curved the maiden's mouth; sheepish at her own unrestrained response to him. Orsino was the first to speak. "We must be wedded soon." Viola could only nod, aware of his gaze fixed on her reddened lips. For a moment it seemed that the Duke would kiss her again, but he exercised restraint and pulled away. "Goodnight, my love."  
The elation Viola felt upon these words was immediately obvious on her face, and Orsino laughed with pleasure to see it. He put a hand to her cheek in tender caress, then bowed and stood aside that she could open her door. Only when she closed it behind her did Viola allow herself to fall onto the bed with a smile of utter bliss.

She did not hear the Duke breathe a contented sigh, nor see him leap down the stairs with the careless joy of a child; but Feste both saw and heard, and smiled to think that he was not the happiest fool of the household. Yes, with so many made fools by love he could no longer be needed; he would leave in the morning. But perhaps he could render them service still, one final night…

Some hours later, Orsino paced his moonlit chamber. He simply could not sleep; worse afflicted that his nights pining for Olivia. Of course, his was no ordinary situation, and Viola was no ordinary woman. How she lit up when laughing with her brother, how charming was she when she blushed…And how selfless she had been, how strong, serving his desires against her own to woo Olivia. How valuable a confidante she had been as a youth, and how much more valuable would she be, now offering not only earnest words, but a warm embrace. And how warm her embrace had been…remembering, he thought perhaps he had been too forward in kissing her so; in one way, they had only just met. But no, they had known each other longer than it seemed; and besides, she had eagerly reciprocated his ministrations.

Orsino was glad their history had been as it was, for had he met her first as a woman he may have seen only her beauty, and not come to appreciate her fine mind and great heart. Now he would forever have a Cesario and a Viola both.

Glancing to the moon, Orsino guessed the hour, and cursed. How could time pass so slowly? Hours, yet, 'til Viola would rise. The Count shook his head; his foolish pining for Olivia was now thrown into sharp relief. That had not been love; he had not had her eyes, her kiss, emblazoned into his memory. This was to be in love; oh, what sweet torment! _Give me excess of it._

On her own moonlit balcony, the young woman leaned, issuing sigh after sigh. She had spent nights before with Orsino in mind, but now she knew what it was she longed for. His laugh, his kiss (oh, his kiss), his eyes when he looked upon her…How would she ever sleep with such thoughts in her mind? And the promise of more such pleasures when the sun rose once more?

Viola felt something rise within her; joy bubbling forth in the form of a lilting melody. Softly she hummed, careful not to wake the house, until to her surprise the gentle strains of a mandolin could be heard echoing her tune, wafting from somewhere below.

_Thank you, Feste._


	2. A New Day

**A New Day**

After a fitful night, Viola awoke to find the first rays of sunlight creeping over her window. She sat up at once, momentarily afraid that it had all been a dream; but happily, it was a dress that lay awaiting her, not Cesario's uniform. Viola dressed quickly, torn between eagerness to see her love and concern that she must be perfectly attired to do so. When satisfied with her appearance, the young woman tiptoed out of her chambers—careful not to wake Sebastian and Olivia across the way—and made her way downstairs. In her days as Cesario, she had often accompanied the Duke on his habitual early morning stroll, and she hoped to do so again.

She came upon him pacing beneath the balcony of her own chamber. After Orsino had recovered from the surprise of seeing her, he grinned sheepishly, finding himself caught red-handed.  
"You find your lord struck once again by the son of Aphrodite, but this time it is within your power entirely to ease his suffering."  
Viola could not help but smile at this; to think that she had over him the same power that Olivia had once held—not that she would ever make use of that power against him—what was hers to bestow she would not reserve. Crossing the terrace to Orsino, she let him take her arm.

The Duke cast an appreciative glance down the length of her. She was a different kind of beautiful this hour, in her morning dress; a more demure and girlish kind. He wondered when he would look upon Viola without surprise; at present he had to look twice, and remind himself who she was.  
"Did you sleep well, my lady?"  
"As well as may be expected," came the admitting reply. The Count grinned at that.  
"Then you were not alone…would you care to walk beyond the gates before breakfast, or are you in need of nourishment?"

They strolled unhurriedly down a sloping path, admiring the beauty that is Illyria at dawn. At length, Orsino began to speak.  
"Ours is a strange situation; I count you my dearest friend and confidante, yet everything I know of you is myth. Tell me, who is this Viola I adore?"  
"I am a gentleman's daughter, in years not yet one-and-twenty. I can play and sing, as you know, and I delight in music, books, and the company of those I love, especially my dear brother." The Duke smiled.  
"Indeed, your bond seems a strong one, 'tis fortunate you shall live so close by."

Viola nodded and smiled, but yawned and fell into a contented silence, so that Orsino teased, "Now, where are the conversations I shared with Cesario? Be that earnest lively boy again!"  
"How can I," Viola replied, "when I have never felt more like a woman?"  
This earnest reply both touched Orsino, and gave him a sense of pride; Viola blushed under his warm gaze. Embarrassed by the silence, she continued, "Besides which, you may recall that Cesario often spoke in fits and starts, when alone with his master…"  
The Count cocked his head to remember, then a smile curved his mouth. "Yes, indeed; I supposed that you must have admired me as a fine figure of a man to emulate," he laughed. The maiden laughed also.  
"You were only half mistaken."  
"And I, too, found myself distracted in your presence, gazing upon you with pleasure."  
Flattery could not quell Viola's curiosity. "Did this not trouble you?"  
"Certainly; the best I could fathom it was to suppose that in the absence of Olivia's love I had turned to any who would give it, even a b—"

Orsino noticed that his companion had stiffened and turned her face away, and suddenly realized his error—he had voiced her very fear; that he had settled for her love as all that was on offer. How could she think it?  
"Oh, forgive me Viola, my tongue is ever clumsy about those for whom I care; you saw how I was in the garden with Olivia…"  
Realizing again that his words were unfortunate, Orsino cursed and decided to put his mouth to more profitable use; taking Viola firmly (though not roughly) by the shoulders, he pressed his lips to hers in a fervent kiss. Some moments later, Viola emerged, dazed and utterly convinced.  
"My dearest," the Duke began, "you must not fear that my affection is half-hearted or fleeting; the respect you have won through your loyalty, and the past sleepless hours I have spent with you in mind must discount such fears."  
The best response Viola could muster was to reach up and press a kiss to his cheek.

They walked on together in companionable silence, admiring the bloom of new flowers.

"I still cannot fathom," Orsino persisted, "that the youth who served me so faithfully is the maid standing beside me. How strange to look back on each hour we spent, and to think I them not with Cesario, but with Viola! I'm afraid I must have behaved terribly to a woman's mind, when I thought I was amongst only men. How blind I was to disregard each comment of yours pertaining to a woman's love; all is clear to me now, and I should delight to hear such sweet confessions again."  
But Viola smiled and shook her head. "All I shall say is that from hearing my father praise you, I was half in love before my eyes beheld you."  
Orsino feigned offence. "If you were so easily won, your affections are like to be fleeting. After all," his eyes twinkled, "there is no woman's sides can bide the beating of so strong a passion as love doth give my heart."  
And when the Count was released from her lithe embrace, he too was dazed and entirely convinced. "Your time as a man hath done you good, I see," he noted, and received a playful blow in return.  
Glancing to the sun, Orsino took his lady's arm.

"Come, my love; the hour is late, and the others shall be wondering to our whereabouts at breakfast."  
"They shall not know we are not still abed," Viola replied, with surprising mischief. And so the lovers did not hurry homeward, instead taking the way by the shore. As they neared the house a wind blew up, and soon raindrops pelted all around.

Some might have thought this tempest a bad omen, a sign of dark things to come, but as he swaggered out across the countryside alone, no wiser fool than Feste would argue that this rain was cleansing; to wash away struggles of past days. For rain is not colder than a lover's embrace is warm, and whatever storm may blow through out loves, the wise fool strives to be pleased, every day.


	3. Heart to Heart

_Author's Note:_ Sorry for the wait. I'll probably write two more chapters, then finish. I'd love some reviews!

**Heart to Heart**

The storm was a brief one, blowing itself out in half an hour, though lingering drizzle kept the party confined indoors. Olivia had been flattered into playing the pianoforte, and while Sebastian sat turning the pages in admiration, the Duke and his confidante sat on opposite couches, both appearing to peruse books whilst concentrating much harder on stealing glances at each other. Last eve had been that 'latest of the twelve', from this morn holiday was ended; but for these lucky for, daily life retained an air of festivity; such is the life of the well-born and the blessed (the aforesaid being both).

Olivia finished her piece with a flourish and a rightfully proud smile. Sebastian applauded first, jolting awake the other two, who had been otherwise engaged.  
"Beautiful, Olivia," Viola commended, with a warm smile.  
"Indeed," Orsino nodded in approval. The already-wedded couple rose from the pianoforte and strolled off together, laughing and whispering confidentially. The others shared an amused glance, as Orsino rose to join his lady on the couch.

"It is well that your brother loves you as much as she, 'else you may never see him."  
Viola chuckled, turning to face him. "Well, despite what you see now, Sebastian is usually quite sensible, and I'm sure he'll be entirely sober when it comes to settling a dowry."  
"I hope that be soon," the Duke replied, "though I feel I ought to pay the man for the honour of having you, not the other way round," he added, reaching out to touch her cheek.

Viola smiled; it had been less than a day since her identity was revealed, yet already she was learning Orsino's tendency for sweet words. She did not mind in the least; she had often wished that her master would speak of her as he had spake of Olivia, and to receive such compliments from he whom she so respected was greatly encouraging. Neither did she doubt his sincerity; remembering the servant Valentine's assurance that the Count was by no means inconstant in his favours. However, this spawned a nagging doubt in her bosom: must he not then have been sincere towards Olivia also? Was it truly possible that he could so quickly relinquish all such feelings for her? He had assured her of such, yet…

"My lady?"  
"Oh," Viola remembered herself at once.  
"Musing on some verse, no doubt," Orsino's smile was teasing as he pried the book from her hands. "Of course," was her sheepish reply.  
"My dear, I intent to discuss the matter of our marriage with Sebastian this eve, unless you object; it frustrates me to think them wed, while we wait," he admitted, but he found uncomfortably that his humour was not reflected in her eyes. The Duke was not a fickle man nor a foolish one, and guessed as to what may be troubling his love, seeking immediately to remedy it in as tactful a manner as could be.

"Although you have most impertinently declined to repeat the sweet cryptic confessions that I heard from Cesario, I should like to make a confession to you."  
Viola nodded, curious and a little uncomfortable despite his mischievous tone.  
"As I attempted to convince you this morning—successfully I thought—I am quite cured of any pang for Lady Olivia. Likewise, as I told you, while I still believed you to be a youth I did find myself drawn to you irresistibly. Now let me bridge these two statements, thus revealing a truth. I imagine that it pained you to see me longing for another—as I would feel to watch you pine for another man too foolish to love you—but I tell you now that one half of my miserable display was of my own foolishness, the other of my love for you."  
Viola did not comprehend, so he continued.  
"When you came to me, I was in the throes of self-affliction, for I had indulged myself to fall for the mere idea of being in love, then fashioned an object for my desires out of the nearest lady at hand. Little did I know then that true love would soon afflict me. I was indeed troubled by the intensity of my feelings for whom I thought to be a boy, and sought to distract myself by continuing to divert my attentions into the next most convenient path. I sent you to woo Olivia again, after realizing my dotage had been fickle, that I might have an outlet for the passion I felt for my Cesario. I hope this knowledge quells any remaining fears about the honesty of my affections."

Viola was dumbstruck. That even one of those 'sighs of fire' had been for Cesario, for her! Before she could check herself, tears welled in her eyes. Seeing this, Orsino started and became most sympathetic, but the lady smiled through her tears, wiping them away. "Forgive me, my lord, I am overwhelmed…but then, I am a weak woman."  
Orsino laughed, and took her by the shoulders.  
"You are the strongest woman I have yet encountered…or wish to encounter…I'm sure you shall keep me in very strict order when we are wed."  
Viola's smile was shy and promising. "That all remains to be seen…"  
"Well, it shall never be seen if I do not pull that brother of yours away from his wife, and negotiate our marriage. I tire of waiting; I must have you as my mistress by no later than next week."  
Viola could not help but smile; it was pleasant to be so valued and desired.  
"Until I return…" Orsino kissed her hand, and departed in search of Sebastian. The lady smiled after him, still marvelling that he was hers.

Tiring of sitting alone, Viola was making for her chambers when intercepted by Lady Olivia. "What ho, my lady?" teased Viola in her most manly voice; the events of previous days had become a joke for them. Olivia arched an elegant brow.  
"Your lover stole away my husband to discuss some stuffy matter of business."  
"That matter being my wedding!" Viola replied, feigning indignance.  
At this revelation, the lady bubbled with girlish delight. "Oh, how wonderful! Come sit with me and let us discourse," she took Viola by the hand and pulled her into the nearest chamber, "for as a married woman I should very much like to dispense advice."  
Her enthusiasm was contagious, and Viola found herself giggling girlishly.  
"Now," beamed Olivia, when they were seated, "your bridal gown must be of the loveliest satin, and pearls for the coronet of your veil—oh, but if you are to be wed soon then your hair will not yet have grown—but no matter, you could hardly wait on account of that…and if you be needing a maid of honour…"  
Both women laughed at Olivia's deliberate lack of subtlety.  
"Would you not be a matron of honour, since you are a married woman?" Viola corrected.  
"I suppose, but 'matron' sounds so dowdy! I hardly look a matron, do I?"  
The fair-haired girl shook her head, smiling in amusement. "I am glad to see that Sebastian's dotage has not swelled your pretty head any," she teased, and Olivia swatted her playfully, then became earnest.  
"In truth, dear sister, marriage is a happy state. I am convinced you shall be as happy with the Duke as I am with your brother."  
Viola smiled at that. "I am glad of your joy; you deserve it, after such sorrow. And he is quite smitten."  
Olivia sighed contentedly. "As am I. For such affectionate wit to belong to a man so handsome!" Viola shook her head.  
"It is strange to hear you speak of my brother in such a way; I hardly think of him as a man at all."  
"Just as I cannot share your admiration for Orsino," the countess replied, "though I admit his looks are well enough."  
"It is well you do not share it," came Viola's arch reply, "for I cannot share such a man."  
"And neither would he wish it; he fair dotes upon you."  
"I confess, I can scarcely wait to be wed."  
Olivia smiled sagely, though she herself had only been married a day. "I am sure you shall not have to wait long."

And indeed Olivia was correct; in the chambers below the meeting was a hasty one.  
"Well of course, as my sister's guardian I freely give you my permission and my blessing. You are a fine man, and will provide for her well I am sure. You are clearly a man of excellent taste, having wooed two beautiful ladies," Sebastian smiled at his pacing companion. "And of course, there is the matter of a dowry. How much do you demand?"  
Orsino paused in his pacing, throwing up his hands. "It is of no matter to me. Give me what you will, whatever you can spare. You do not need to bribe me into taking her, that much must be obvious."  
Sebastian's smile was arch. "Of course, but our father was a fine man, and we cannot stoop to charity. Say, five hundred…?"  
Orsino nodded hastily. "Fine. Fine. A deal…"  
He stretched out his hand to shake, but Sebastian turned away. "No, even that is too little. Would you accept seven hundred?"  
"Yes, yes, if you insist. I shall happily accept whatever you offer, as long as Viola be mine."  
But still, with great theatricality Sebastian toyed with his moustache, and sighed, "Perhaps…"  
But Orsino caught the sparkle in his junior's eye. "You toy with me, sir. For heaven's sake, let us settle the matter, and keep me no longer from your sister and my love that needs be; for you too are afflicted with the fever that ails me, and if you continue to torture me I may keep you from your love in a similar way."  
Orsino's threat was delivered with a wry smile, which Sebastian soon matched. "Forgive me, sir. I have ever been the mischievous sort…as is my sister, as you no doubt shall learn. Let her dowry be seven hundred, and let us speak no more of it."  
They shook firmly, with a smile of understanding.  
"Now you to your love, sir, and I to mine."

The gentlemen found their loves seated together on the terrace, whispering together conspiratorially. Viola was the first to notice the arrival, and emitted a sigh of relief, leaping to her feet.  
"Is it all settled, then?"  
"That it is, dear sister," Sebastian grinned, ruffling his sister's cropped hair affectionately. She frowned and tried to straighten her hair.  
"I would not bother to fix that, Viola," her brother winked, "for I imagine the Count will soon have it that way again as soon as you are alone."  
Viola blushed furiously. "Olivia, kindly escort my cad of a brother wherever you will, as long as it be far from me."  
The lady laughed, and took her husband's arm. "For you, dear sister, I will complete this most arduous of tasks."

Orsino took his lady's hand as they admired the view from the terrace.  
"I believe your brother's comment may have been invited by my flurried state during our meeting; shall we say I was eager to get back to my lady."  
Viola smiled. "I am glad. Olivia and I have been discussing the intricacies of our wedding. I don't suppose you'd have any objection to my wearing a coronet of pearls?"  
Orsino grinned, stroking her hair. "I will even go so far as to pay for it."  
"And how about a night of dancing after we are wed?"  
"Why wait 'til after we are wed?" the Duke replied, pulling Viola into his arms and spinning her round, provoking a peal of laughter. She raised her hands to his chest to steady herself, then slipped her arms around his neck. As they shared an adoring gaze, the Illyrian sun shone warm and golden.

How idyllic it seemed. The latest night of the twelve was passed, surely soon the harsher realities of life must intrude…mustn't they? Perhaps…but not yet.


End file.
